Forlorn
by MetaBlade
Summary: While searching for Mario in the haunted mansion, Luigi is inadvertently pulled into a trap that changes everything, leaving both brothers in desperate need of help. But how can they hope to be saved when nobody even knows where they are? (Luigi's Mansion AU) (On a small hiatus right now)
1. Chapter 1: A Failed Mission

**A/N: Well, I thought it's about time for a new attempt at a multi-chapter. I confess I'm not very good at them (I usually wind up getting bored and abandoning them partway through) but this time I think I have a story idea that might just work. This is probably going to be less than 10 chapters and is partially inspired by my old story _Illumination_ (but has nothing to do with that story, plot-wise).**

 **P.S. I've been experiencing an odd glitch lately where any reviews posted to my stories within the last few days don't seem to show up. I can still read everyone's reviews in my email notifications though, and I hope to get this problem fixed as soon as possible.**

 **Anyway, please drop a review if you read this! Helpful criticism is, as usual, appreciated.**

 **Enjoy!**

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FORLORN CHAPTER 1: A Failed Mission

A scream echoed down the twisting corridors of the mansion, bouncing off the grimy brick walls and back again with an intensity that frightened me, leaving me breathless, struggling to locate my footing. The beam from my flashlight shook and spun crazily in my trembling hand as I pointed it at the ceiling, finding nothing but old cobwebs, then down at the floor around my boots as if I were searching for something I'd dropped. A big brown spider scuttled out of a crack in the wall and ran through the circle of light, startled out of hiding by the amount of noise I was making, but besides that there was nothing.

I knew I'd seen it, though. Just a minute ago I'd very nearly had the life scared out of me by a ghost materialising in front of my face, sending me stumbling away in a panic, which had caused me to trip on something and fall flat on my back. The flashlight that had snapped off when it rolled out of my grasp was quickly snatched up again, but as much as I frantically shone the light around the corridor there was no trace of the transparent green-tinted form of the ghost.

At least it hadn't been a Boo, though I supposed all ghosts were about the same – terrifying, mischievous and prone to jumping out at you when you least expected it. Something they took great pleasure in doing to me every few minutes, leading me to wonder why I hadn't died of a heart attack yet.

As the fear slowly ebbed away, I became aware of the throbbing pain in my back where bruises would undoubtedly spring up later, as well as the violent shaking in my hands that made it impossible to keep the flashlight steady. I took a deep, calming breath and put all my willpower into stilling the tremors, straightening my legs, forcing the last vestiges of blind panic out of my system before it could erupt again.

I clambered to my feet, still a little shaky, but rather proud to be standing at all. Once more, for good measure, I swung the flashlight beam around and over my head to reassure myself that wherever that ghost had gone, it definitely wasn't in the corridor with me anymore. A relief – at least until the next one appeared to try its luck. The ghosts didn't seem afraid of me even when I burst into rooms wielding my Poltergust vacuum like a real weapon, ruthlessly sucking up everything in my path until the place was not only spirit-free, but dust-and-dirt-free as well. I wondered why they didn't show at least a measure of caution, considering I _did_ have the ability to destroy them in mere seconds – but maybe, as members of the undead, they simply didn't feel any need to be scared.

I wished I could be a little more like them.

Shaking off the remnants of my fear, I set off down the dark corridor in the direction I'd been heading right before the ghost showed up. I might not have minded being in the mansion so much if it were more comfortable. As it was, the stale air – especially this far underground in the cellar areas – was choking me, and the cold was starting to seep into my bones and muscles so I could barely move. I felt ten years older since before I'd come here, stiff and sore and desperate to just _get out_ so I could curl up in front of a crackling fireplace and enjoy a nice warm mug of cocoa.

My nerves were destroyed from hours of walking in the near-complete darkness, knowing that at any moment another ghost could appear and scare the wits out of me. I never grew accustomed to them, no matter how many times they played tricks on me and tested my courage by leaping out of nowhere and shrieking in my face, then melting back into the walls or ceiling before my trembling hands could get a good grip on the Poltergust. I was sure that even if I succeeded in doing what I'd first come here to accomplish – rescuing my brother Mario and escaping the mansion alive – I was going to have nightmares about this place for the rest of my days.

 _Shut up, Luigi!_ I told myself as I reached the end of the corridor and stretched out my free hand to grab the doorknob, noticing that while it was quite smooth and shiny, its surface was coated in so much dust that my reflection was just an indistinct figure. _Soon we'll be out of here, with Mario. Just hang in there a little longer. Only one silly Boo left to catch..._ I wasn't sure if I should be worried by the fact that I was, for all intents and purposes, talking to my own mind. But I guess if it made me feel even slightly reassured...

The door creaked painfully as it swung open, and I quickly took note of how rusty the hinges were. Pushing the door open took a lot more strength that it should have done; I wouldn't be able to rely on it as a quick escape route.

The room I set foot into was large, containing four pillars that stretched from floor to ceiling. Before I had time to marvel at the intricate patterns carved into the stone, I spotted something up ahead that made me freeze for a split second. Then I was charging forwards recklessly, heedless of whatever traps and monsters might lie in my path, the beam of my flashlight playing across the wall. And then I stopped completely and just stood there for what felt like several minutes, panting for breath and gazing up in silent wonder at the huge painting in front of me.

It was as nearly as tall as myself, with an engraved bronze frame, and looked too big and heavy to carry. But what caught my attention more than anything else was the portrait itself. It showed the face of a man with a bright red cap on his head and a thick mustache that clearly hadn't been cared for. He was actually moving, two white-gloved fists reaching out to tap desperately on the transparent wall of his prison. Tired blue eyes stared feverishly back at me through the canvas but didn't seem capable of focusing on anything, or indeed seeing me, for his gaze was fixed somewhere a few inches over my head and the cloudiness in those eyes told me that he wasn't really seeing a thing. Black shadows lay draped beneath them, and what little of his mouth that was visible under the mustache looked drawn, grim, and obviously hadn't cracked a smile in days.

I knew this man. He was my brother. This was Mario.

 _He doesn't even know I'm here._ Instinctively, I stretched my arm up as far as I could and gently touched the smooth canvas just to the left of his face. When nothing happened, I tapped a finger against the bronze frame, then a little harder. No response. Bile rose in my throat and I had to force myself to keep motionless and watch the man in the painting, every muscle in my body longing to either run out of the room or seize the canvas off the wall. _What have they done to him?! He can't see me... it's like he's trapped there, but why can't he see through the painting?_

More than anything, I couldn't understand why I'd been able to enter this room completely unchallenged. Mario's painting should have been heavily guarded by ghosts, maybe even by the terrifying King Boo himself, yet I'd practically breezed in here without a hint of resistance. Why? Had the King not even expected me to survive to this point? I shivered at the realisation that, if the Boos _didn't_ know I was already here, they would probably be furious when they discovered the truth. But I hoped that by the time they noticed the painting was gone, I'd be long gone myself.

The trembling in my hands renewed as I moved forwards to pull the painting down from the wall. I wasn't short by any means, but I still had to stretch up on my toes to get a grip on the canvas, grunting with effort when it came free and all of its considerable weight fell upon me at once. I was incredibly careful to avoid damaging it as I shoved it under my free arm and turned around to face the open door. I had no idea what effect it would have on Mario if I accidentally tore the delicate canvas or broke the entire painting into pieces. Would it kill him? I didn't know, and sincerely hoped I'd never have to test the theory.

The room remained silent as a tomb as I walked back towards the doorway, the heavy painting pressed against the side of my body and my flashlight clearing a path through the darkness ahead. I was starting to feel quietly elated; maybe I'd actually make it out of the mansion without any ghosts spotting me, and I wouldn't have to do battle with King Boo in order to escape. Secretly, beyond all my other assorted fears, fighting the king of the ghosts had been my worst one, tied with finding Mario dead.

The doorway loomed before me, somehow taller than it had looked from the opposite side, and nothing but darkness was visible over its threshold. Even the flashlight didn't seem able to pierce the opaque shadows. That alone should have made me pause and think, if only for a moment, but I was so happy at finding my brother – maybe not in perfect condition, but unmistakably alive – that my usual caution had fled. I walked forwards without slowing, even when it became apparent that something besides just darkness was waiting for me.

I was a step away from the threshold when the ghost materialised. First there was nothing, then out of nowhere the sickly greenish light exploded in front of my face and reformed itself into the hideous smiling face of my worst nightmare. Its pupilless yellow eyes were only a couple of inches from mine, yet it seemed to take me an unreasonably long time to react to its appearance.

Then I threw myself backwards onto the floor, unwittingly landing on top of Mario's portrait. Right then I wasn't even thinking for my brother. I scrabbled back even further, pushing myself along with my hands and feet as the ghost advanced menacingly, raising one of its huge fists to attack. It was the same ghost that had ambushed me in the corridor earlier, or at least it looked the same, and I didn't consider myself an expert at recognising ghost species anyhow.

'G-get away!' I yelped, my voice sounding two high even to my own ears. I'd snatched up Mario's painting and dragged it along the floor with me, but I didn't dare look away from the approaching ghost long enough to inspect it for damage. Abruptly my shoulders hit something hard behind me – the stone pillar. I was cornered. My panic lending itself to an act of sheer desperation, I found myself attempting to reason with the thing that wanted to kill me. 'P-please, g-go away! I-I'm sorry! I won't come b-back!'

I didn't even know for sure what I was trying to say at that point; all I wanted was for the ghost to leave me alone. I was more than a little surprised when it halted, three feet away, and watched me with an expression I might have described as contemplative if I actually believed ghosts had feelings like that.

'Luigi,' it said after a long and uncomfortable silence. My breath caught in my throat; I'd never heard any of the ghosts except Boos talk out loud before, and I didn't like it. I preferred to think of them as mindless monsters than fully intelligent beings. 'You're a sneaky one, aren't you? You'd make a great ghost.'

'N-n-no...' I mumbled, trying to edge further backwards in case the creature decided to make a sudden lunge for me.

'But King Boo has other ideas,' it continued. 'He doesn't want you dead, even though you've hurt so many of us... So many innocent ghosts trapped inside that monstrosity you call the Poltergust 3000...' Its tone sunk to a soft, threatening pitch that made my heart pound alarmingly in my chest, and I couldn't have spoken even if I knew what to say. 'Do you hear them screaming, Luigi?'

I swallowed. I heard it. The only thing I still had control of was my flashlight, which was held in a death-grip in my right hand. But even as I considered turning the full force of the beam into the ghost's face, the light suddenly flickered, stuttered – and cut out.

We were left alone together in the darkness.

'A little like your brother,' the ghost was saying. 'He screams too, Luigi. Every day and night he's been screaming for you. We watch him sometimes, his pathetic cries for help as he suffers inside that painting... He thinks you're going to save him. But you won't. Because you're weak and cowardly and you could never accomplish what your friends have done.'

'Th-that's n-not true...' I stammered, violent tremors coursing up and down my body. I felt cold, colder than before, and my fear was so absolute that I couldn't imagine feeling anything besides mind-numbing terror. 'I c-captured all those Boos by myself...'

'Ha! You've done nothing, not compared to your brother.' The green ghost laughed shortly and derisively. 'You're worthless, Luigi. You couldn't overcome your silly fears, and now, you've failed at saving your brother as well.'

Suddenly, I became aware of a strange pulling sensation in my chest. It was so bizarre that for a moment I almost forgot to be afraid, instead looking down and letting out a confused noise as I tried to figure out what was happening. Then I noticed the painting I still clutched in my other hand, and I gasped without meaning to. Mario's face was no longer there. Instead, the canvas showed swirling darkness, like a black hole – and that darkness was slowly, inexorably dragging me inside.

I cried out. I dropped the useless flashlight and instead wrapped my other arm around the stone pillar, hoping to anchor myself to the real world. I even released my grip on Mario's portrait, despite my fears for my brother's safety. The ghost looked on and laughed coldly at my struggles, obviously unaffected by whatever nameless magic was pulling me into the painting.

Mercifully, it only lasted for a few seconds. Then my mind abruptly went blank, my vision darkened, and all my other senses cut out. Nothing existed.


	2. Chapter 2: Together

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who read the first chapter of this thing! I'm still debating on whether to actually continue this or not, but here's the next chapter for those who are interested.**

 **Also, this is off-topic, but if anyone knows of a way to fix the glitch where FanFiction keeps eating my reviews, please PM me. I've already emailed the site support and haven't heard anything back, should I try again in a few days? Though I can still see all your reviews in my email notifications, they're not visible here on the site at all. At least not from my point of view.**

 **Anyway, enough of me talking. Enjoy!**

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FORLORN CHAPTER 2: Together

 _Where am I...?_

 _Everything that happened back there... was it real? Was it a dream?_

'Luigi! Get up!'

I was jolted out of a fitful sleep in which I was plagued with memories of the mansion by a firm hand shaking my shoulder. Normally this wouldn't have given me cause for alarm, but my recent experiences had left me paranoid and fearful – more so than usual. At the unexpected touch I immediately jerked upright with a yelp, swinging one arm out frantically in an attempt to hit whoever it was, not even stopping for a moment to determine whether or not they were an enemy.

'Luigi!' the voice cried out a second time. Warm fingers, utterly different from anything I'd felt since I set foot inside the haunted mansion, curled around my wrist. I struggled for another moment before letting my body go lax, motionless aside from the shivering that racked my frame. Somehow I still didn't know who was talking to me, even though, in retrospect, I was stupid not to have realised it sooner; there was only one person who could be here right now.

'Luigi.' Once again the strangely familiar voice caught my attention. I suddenly became aware that my eyes were tightly shut, as if I'd been trying to block out the unknown terrors I was sure awaited me. I knew I'd have to open them if I wanted to find out where I was. Slowly, preparing for the worst, I raised my head and looked directly into the face of the person who had just shaken me awake. I half-expected to see that hideous green ghost again, or maybe even King Boo himself looming over me with a satisfied grin on his face as he beheld his helpless prisoner. What I should have expected, but somehow didn't, was a short man in blue overalls with a red cap pulled down low over his eyes, wearing a troubled expression as he cautiously stretched out a hand to touch my shoulder.

Even after I saw him, it seemed to take an age for my mind to put two and two together. 'M-Mario?' I gasped, my voice barely more than a whisper.

He nodded tensely, reaching up to adjust the brim of his cap so that I could see his face better. He looked... very similar to how he'd appeared inside the painting, which I guessed made sense, though it was still a slight shock to see my very real, three-dimensional brother looking this way. He was haggard and grim, his mustache grown wildly out of control and his eyes sunken with exhaustion. But everything else was the same – even the grin he threw at me when he saw that I'd recognised him. It was tired, his face drawn, but it was the same familiar grin I remembered. That was when I instantly knew for certain.

'Bro!' I yelped, trying to scramble to my feet despite my own poor condition. My muscles ached horribly and the bruises on my back from falling over in the corridor felt even worse. I realised that I was kneeling on a pure-white surface, completely smooth beneath my cautious touch as I trailed a gloved finger along it. It was neither floorboards nor tiles, nor did it feel or look like any other surface I could think of. But there were more important things to worry about than the floor.

'Mario, what's going on?' I asked, scared to hear the answer.

He sighed. 'Well, it's a long story,' he said. 'As soon as I heard you won a mansion in a contest, I decided to go check it out – I thought it might be some sort of trap, and I wanted to make sure it was safe for you.'

I froze. 'You came here to check it out for _me?_ Mario, you could've died!' He averted his gaze uncomfortably and I reached out myself this time, locking my fingers around his forearm. 'I'm not worth you putting yourself in danger like that!'

'You _are_ worth it, Bro!' he shot back, looking startled that I'd even say something like that. 'I didn't want you to go to the mansion alone... I had to investigate first. But then everything kinda went wrong.' A smile twitched for a moment beneath his bushy mustache, but faded almost too quickly to be sure it was there.

I sat up straighter, trying not to look around too carefully. Once I'd finished talking to Mario, I'd have time to survey our surroundings... for now, I didn't want to look. I could see just out of my peripheral vision that there was very, very little in this place that seemed to be our prison. 'So what happened then?'

'Well... I remember walking into the mansion. There were a lot of Boos there, and King Boo. I'm not sure what happened afterwards. I guess they must have trapped me somehow in the painting, but I don't know how they did it.' He rubbed the back of his neck with a gloved hand, looking a bit sheepish. I had no idea how my brother could appear so calm, when I was already screaming quietly on the inside.

'Bro... are we inside the painting now?' I asked.

Immediately Mario's expression changed. 'I... I think so? Like I said, it's all a bit fuzzy. But how did _you_ end up here? You didn't get captured, did you?'

I thought back to the last few moments I could remember before I fell unconscious; finding Mario's portrait, the green ghost pursuing me, the strange pulling sensation as the magic in the painting dragged me inside... My breath suddenly hitched and Mario must have heard it, because he put a steady hand on my shoulder as if to support me.

'What is it? What happened?' he asked urgently.

I... I think a ghost caught me,' I replied shakily, feeling panic rising like an unstoppable tide in my chest. 'I was forced into the painting, just like you were.' I hadn't expected Mario to be overjoyed upon hearing this, but even so, I was shocked to see the wave of darkness that passed behind his eyes as I spoke. It was gone in a heartbeat, but in that heartbeat I'd caught a momentarily glimpse of everything Mario had been holding back, all the fear and anger that I now realised he had only been concealing to avoid worrying me more. At the same time, his already bruising grip on my shoulder increased to a level that was borderline painful.

'Bro,' he said seriously, locking his gaze with mine so I couldn't look away, 'we need to come up with an escape plan.'

'Um... that's what I thought we were going to do anyway.'

'While I was stuck here,' said Mario, 'the Boos sometimes came in to talk to me. They kept mentioning your name, and told me how you were fighting your way through the mansion to find me... I always thought...' He hesitated, and a moment later I understood why. 'I always kinda thought you'd save me. So I was never really worried about being stuck here for long.'

My heart, which had been pounding uncomfortably fast, seemed to stop altogether as a crushing weight struck me in the chest. I couldn't breathe properly as it settled over my lungs, stilling even the tremors racing through my body. I couldn't do anything besides stare into Mario's eyes, seeing the sudden guilt there, followed by veiled panic when I didn't respond.

Before he could open his mouth and attempt to rectify his mistake, I let my head fall forwards in defeat and mumbled, 'I know. I'm sorry, Bro.'

He shook me, hard enough to make me raise my head and look at him again. There were self-loathing written all over his face now, but the knowledge that he regretted what he'd said didn't make me feel any better. Because I knew it was true anyway. Just like the ghost had said, I was a failure. A useless, pathetic good-for-nothing wimp who couldn't even rescue his own brother. My vision of a perfect story had revolved around me finding Mario and striding out of the mansion in triumph, taking him back to Toad Town and drinking in the praise from all the citizens who'd never even noticed my existence before. But I hadn't considered my own lack of ability, and now I'd completely ruined the story. There was no heroic ending here for me; I'd never get an ounce of the recognition I longed for, and more to the point, I'd condemned my brother to suffer because I wasn't good enough to save him.

Suddenly, as if hearing the thoughts circling around in my head, Mario let out a growl of frustration and tried to catch my gaze. I didn't want to look, knowing what a miserable failure I'd been to him, but I couldn't seem to evade those piercing blue eyes. 'Listen, Luigi,' he said. 'We've all made mistakes. I was stupid for even coming here in the first place, and anything that's happened to me is my own fault. You don't deserve to be trapped here! I didn't ask you to risk your life trying to rescue me! What is _you'd_ died?'

I knew he was trying his best to make me feel better, but my heart wasn't quite up to believing him yet, so I steered the subject onto something more immediate and practical. 'How are we going to get out of here? You said you've been here for a while, and you haven't found a way out yet...'

Mario paused. I wasn't sure whether he looked more relieved that I was talking properly, or worried because he clearly didn't have an answer to my question. But, as always, he recovered rapidly and came up with something. 'I don't know yet, but we're gonna work on it. Together, OK?' He eyed me carefully, looking as if he wanted to launch himself into a brotherly embrace but didn't know how I'd react if he did. I drew in a breath, held it for a moment, then tried to smile. It probably wasn't very convincing, but I gave it my best shot.

'Together,' I agreed, and to save him to trouble of deciding what to do next I leaned forwards and drew him into a tight one-armed hug. Then, in a soft voice that would have likely gone unheard at a distance, I added, 'Sono contento che sia qui.'

He was silent for a few seconds, his head against my shoulder, then he replied gruffly, 'Anche tu, fratello.'

And I knew that somehow, despite how badly I'd screwed everything up, we were going to escape. The alternatives were too horrible to think about.

* * *

 **Google translate used for Italian phrases as always.**


	3. Chapter 3: No More Heroes

FORLORN CHAPTER 3: No More Heroes

'Still no clues?'

'No.'

I let my head fall back against the wall of our prison with a soft thump and continued to watch, rather listlessly, as Mario combed the place for anything that might help us to escape. We had already spent what felt like three or four hours examining every square inch and hadn't found a single clue, and I was beginning to resign myself to our fate.

 _But we're not giving up yet!_ I forced myself to think. _And Mario's not going to rest until he's found a way out._

The prison inside the enchanted painting was definitely not the nicest nor the most interesting place to find yourself trapped for an indeterminable amount of time. Four walls, all pure-white; white ceiling, white floor, no windows, no furniture. It was like being inside a white void, and I was absolutely sure we were both going to go insane if we stayed here much longer. I was honestly surprised Mario had managed to keep ahold of himself during the long hours he'd been stuck here all by himself. In a strange way, I was glad that we were together in this; the prospect of being imprisoned alone in this empty room – maybe forever – was enough to give me nightmares.

But being together didn't solve our biggest problem, which was how we were supposed to escape. In fact, being together made our situation worse, because we both knew that no more heroes were coming to save us. Besides my brother, I was the only person in the Mushroom Kingdom who was even remotely considered heroic, and I'd been stupid enough to get myself captured along with Mario. If I ever managed to convince him that there was no magical escape route here, we'd have to accept that our only hope, our one tiny chance of rescue, lay in Princess Peach.

Surely she must be worried? Mario had been missing for two days now and as far as I was aware, nobody had ventured out to search for him except me. I could only assume that Peach didn't expect the great hero to end up in any sort of trouble. In a few more days, or weeks, she would realise something was wrong and deploy a search party to look for us. _No, for Mario,_ I corrected myself. _Nobody's even thinking about me, probably._ I briefly considered Daisy, my closest friend and – I had to admit it now – love interest, but was rewarded with a sinking feeling in my stomach when I remembered that I hadn't told her where I was going. However, she was certainly clever enough to put two and two together and realise I'd gone looking for Mario... right?

Somehow, in my desperation, I felt like I was clutching at straws. But Mario remained doggedly optimistic as usual.

'Don't worry about it, Bro,' he said, finally sitting down beside me after his prolonged examination of the prison. 'Just because we can't escape, doesn't mean we're _doomed._ Peach will definitely come looking for us once she knows we're gone.'

I pulled off my cap and scratched my head despondently, running my fingers through my hair in an absentminded gesture. 'Do you really think she will, though?' I asked, trying not to show how absolutely hopeless I felt. _Toughen up, Luigi,_ I snapped at myself. _Stop being such a coward! It's not like we're going to die in here._

'Hey, lighten up,' said Mario, unknowingly mirroring my thoughts as he peered at me in a concerned way. 'Someone's gotta find us eventually, right? And I know for sure that a certain princess will try her best to get you out of here...' He grinned mischievously.

'A certain princess?' I repeated, playing along. 'Who might that be?'

'Well, she's from Sarasaland, she wears a yellow dress, and she has a crush on you that's so obvious even Wario can see it.'

'Ha ha.' I carefully fitted my cap back onto my head, hiding the tiny smile playing at the corner of my mouth. 'Really funny. You sure know how to lighten up a bad situation, don't you?'

'Course I do,' replied Mario easily. He was gazing up at the white ceiling, eyes unfocused. 'Come on, Bro, I know Daisy's gonna find us somehow. She'd fight her way past King Boo, Bowser, and a hundred ghosts to find you. And maybe if I'm really lucky, another princess might come looking for _me...'_

He trailed off with a wistful expression and I rolled my eyes. 'The day Princess Peach forgets about you is the day Bowser decides to start a dating club for his minions.'

Mario paused, undoubtedly forming a mental picture of what I'd just said, then let out a small tired-sounding chuckle. 'Yes, that'll be the day.'

I sat up a little straighter against the white wall and glanced around, unconsciously searching for any minuscule changes in our surroundings that might help us to escape. I was of course deluding myself; I'd only been here for a few hours and I already knew for certain that nothing ever changed in this place. If only we'd been able to see out of the portrait, maybe we could have reasoned with the ghosts. _Reasoning with ghosts?_ I thought bitterly. _Now you're really losing it, Luigi._

But the same question had been nagging at me for a while now; why _had_ King Boo decided to capture us? Clearly he didn't intent to torture us for any sort of information, something I was unspeakably grateful for, but there must be some reason he wanted both me and Mario imprisoned inside this painting. Maybe he just wanted to leave us here forever, to slowly starve and die in a horrible manner. I shuddered and tasted bile in the back of my throat, but another pressing question distracted me enough to ease off the nausea.

'Hey, Bro?' I asked, and saw his head turn out of the corner of my eye. 'What have you been eating all this time?'

His expression, which had been cautious when I started talking, relaxed slightly. 'Oh, a blue ghost brings some food about twice a day. He should be here soon, actually. Sorry. I completely forgot to tell you.'

I stared at him in disbelief, then shook my head and let out a sigh. I couldn't blame Mario for forgetting something in the excitement of the last few hours. 'Then why don't we... I don't know, interrogate the ghost when it arrives? Demand to know why we've been kidnapped or whatever.' Once again, I wondered why I was even considering the possibility that we could reason with the ghosts. They were brutes, monsters whose sole purpose in life – or death? - was to scare the living daylights out of everyone, especially myself. They didn't have morals or motives as far as I knew.

Mario shrugged, looking thoughtfully up at the ceiling. 'How do you make a ghost tell you what you want to know?' Automatically, his eyes slid sideways to rest somewhere over my shoulder. I tried to follow his gaze.

'What is it?'

'Bro,' he said slowly, still staring at that spot, 'the ghosts were always telling me about this terrifying weapon of yours that you used to fight them off...'

Catching his drift, I strained an arm around to my back and my fingers met the hard resistance of the Poltergust 3000. Slowly, a tentative grin stretched across my face. Somehow I hadn't even remembered that the machine was still strapped to me – in the chaos and terror of being thrown into the painting, reuniting with Mario and our struggles to escape, I must have completely forgotten about it. But now that I knew, we had an advantage – a card we could play against the ghosts and maybe, if we got lucky, secure our ticket out of this prison.

'Bro,' I said, turning to meet Mario's surprised gaze, 'we're gonna get out of here. Soon. Next time that ghost shows up, we ask him what's going on... and if he doesn't tell us,' I added with more bravado than I really felt, 'he's getting the business end of this.'

Mario was silent for a long moment. Then, to my relief, he grinned and nodded in agreement, his eyes still on the Poltergust. 'OK, Bro. Let's put this into action and maybe we can get home in time for dinner. Not that I have a clue what time it is.'

I laughed weakly. 'Well, Peach will probably bake you a cake even if it's three o' clock in the morning.'

* * *

Peach paced along one of the many giant corridors in the castle and halted in front of a window, looking outside with a sigh. The grounds were silent, as was the castle itself; not many people were awake at this time of the morning. The only signs of life were a few birds and two Toad guards standing watch outside the front doors, both dozing and leaning on their spears. She could have yelled at them through the window, but decided not to. After all, she could hardly blame the guards for being exhausted after an entire night of protecting the castle, and she doubted Bowser had any immediate plans to attack anyway.

Normally, she wouldn't be awake at this time either. But she had too much currently on her mind to sleep. Yesterday evening, Toadsworth had given her the news that Mario had disappeared from town and hadn't been seen recently. If it weren't for the fact that he'd left without so much as a word of explanation – and he knew full well how much she worried about him – then she might have believed it was nothing. Apparently, Luigi had also vanished shortly after his brother, and there had been no word from either of them since.

 _He's fine,_ she desperately tried to tell herself. But her mind kept returning to one simple fact; this had never happened before, and that alone gave her cause for concern. Although she knew Mario could be reckless at times she'd never known him to simply disappear without a word. Not to her.

Slowly, she headed for the massive spiral staircase that would take her down to the main entrance hall of the castle. The red carpet was as soft as fur beneath her bare feet; she had come out in her pyjamas and hadn't stopped to put on any shoes or even slippers. It wasn't as if anyone was going to see her, were they?

In the entrance hall, she was surprised to find Toadsworth – how was the fragile old man still awake? - talking in a seemingly urgent manner to a small group of guards. Approaching quietly, Peach counted six of them, all carrying tiny spears and wearing determined expressions that did a poor job at hiding their obvious nerves. She joined them in the circle and startled Toadsworth by tapping the elderly steward on the shoulder before he'd noticed she was there.

'Oh! Your Highness!' he exclaimed, immediately turning his attention away from the guards and offering her a small bow in respect. 'What, might I ask, are you doing out here so late at night?'

'I couldn't sleep,' she admitted sheepishly. 'So I thought I'd go for a little walk around the castle... Toadsworth, is something going on?' She quickly ran her gaze over the other Toads, who shied away from her when they noticed her looking. From the looks of them, they were mostly new recruits who had probably never met her in person before and were unsure how to address the Princess. However, none of them appeared to resent her presence.

Toadsworth was stroking his mustache anxiously. 'Well, we may – _may –_ have a lead on Mario and his brother's location. But we weren't planning on telling you until we were one-hundred-percent certain. It wouldn't do for the Princess to get her hopes up only for us to be proven wrong...'

'You know where Mario is?' she cried, disregarding everything else the steward had said in favour of focusing on the most important piece of information. 'Where? Please tell me, Toadsworth. I won't be able to rest until I'm sure he's safe...'

Toadsworth cleared his throat. 'It appears that Master Mario went out to investigate some sort of old building a few days ago, and hasn't returned. It makes sense that Luigi may also be with him, but we don't know that for certain.'

 _But at least we have a clue now! We'll find him safe and sound... we have to!_

Determinedly, Peach looked over the guards one more time before returning her gaze to Toadsworth. 'If you're going to search for Mario, I'm coming with you!'

'No, your Highness!' The old man sounded shocked at the very idea, which didn't surprise her in the least. 'It's much too dangerous! We are venturing inside a mansion that may have any sort of monstrous creatures inside. We know nothing about the enemy or who was responsible for Master Mario's disappearance. Please, you can't consider putting yourself at such risk-'

'But I have to!' Peach interrupted his frantic babbling. 'I'm sorry, Toadsworth, I really am. But I can't just stay here while I know Mario and Luigi are in trouble. I'm not completely helpless; I have my enchanted parasol, and I'll be sure to bring supplies.' She knew she would sway him eventually; try as he might, Toadsworth was hopeless at denying her wishes. And sure enough, she could see that he was already losing the willpower to keep arguing.

'I...' he faltered. 'You... Very well! But you _must_ stay safe and allow the guards to protect you! Rescuing Mario will mean nothing if you come back hurt or worse.'

For the first time, she felt a smile starting to form and looked at the circle of guards, who all seemed bewildered by the new turn of events. 'Don't worry, Toadsworth!' she assured him. 'I promise I'll be careful. Now, what do I need to pack for the trip?'


End file.
